


The Path Less Travelled By

by francisthefairyqueen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:47:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27138200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/francisthefairyqueen/pseuds/francisthefairyqueen
Summary: Life isn't supposed to go as expected. But I'm sure even the most creative people would be confused as to how I ended up in the hpverse of all places. With Draco of all people as my younger brother. Why couldn't I be in the Narutoverse? Self-insert OC.





	The Path Less Travelled By

I have to say, by the time I died, I had already been preparing for the event of my demise for months. My will had been written (although as it was in one of my drawers in my University dorm room, it probably wouldn’t be enforced) and re-written, because my 18th birthday came and I had far more money than I expected to have. My room had been cleaned for whoever may find me, and my inhalers were on the desk, ready for me to grab at any moment, so I could at least try to call the authorities when I started to severely struggle to breathe.  
I would like to clarify, that I was not suicidal, I was in fact on the clinically vulnerable list – or rather the shielding list, but had still decided to go to University and so my paranoia combined with the stupidity of my flat mates and the government led me to believe and prepare for my departure from this world.  
I’d always joked to my loved ones that things never went like how I imagined them to, and I feel like my death was a prime example of that.  
I didn’t die from what I had expected to, I instead died from a car-crash – A lorry-crash, to be exact. But that isn’t a word, and you get the gist - I was crossing the road like usual, and a lorry tipped, crushing my fragile body which was just next to the crossing. I died instantly.

I didn’t even have time to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

So my previous life was over, and I awaited for whatever afterlife I was going to turn up in. I concluded probably either Heaven or Hell, because my family were ‘loosely’ Christian, but at the same time, that opened a whole new can of worms. 

\--

I know I died young, meaning that there was a much lower chance of me going to hell as I’d never broken the law - but aren’t there specific parts of the bible that prohibited you from swearing? Plus I swore like a sailor. I wasn’t even properly Christian, so would I be sent to Hell for not going to church each week?  
I don’t know how long I panicked over this, but towards the end, I gave up and just resigned myself to whatever fate my afterlife was tied to. I didn’t know what was going to happen, so what was the point in worrying anymore?  
I also accepted the growing possibility that I may go to hell.

And then there was warmth. 

It was still pitch black don’t get me wrong, but the warmth was comfortable, and I am not sure why, but it gave me hope that my afterlife was not going to be awful like I had previously suspected.

So instead of that, I looked back at my life.

All 18 years. Good and Bad memories. 

I couldn’t cry out, I couldn’t smile. 

All I could was think.

And think I did.

I thought about what I would have done had I become a politician, what I would have done to help out my brother had I been rich. Whether or not I would do a Masters in History or Politics. 

But more importantly, relating to what happened next, I started to daydream about different fictional works.  
It was one of my favourite things to do during my school years – and honestly, it got me through the rest of this weird, warm, period of my time. 

I thought about my favourite TV shows, Movies, Anime, Musicals, Books – Hell even songs, and I thought about what I would do differently. What characters needed more development. What worlds could potentially cross over and more importantly, how good their fanfiction is.  
In fact, I was half way through remembering Dreaming of Sunshine when this tranquil period abruptly ended.  
It was cold.

The cool air was the first to hit me, but I found I couldn’t shiver in response. The white room and bright lights hit my eyes, and I had to quickly shut them again to avoid being blinded. 

I tried to call out to ask why it was so cold, but no words came out. 

Instead, a loud wail rang from my lips.

More specifically a baby’s wail. Cold hands grabbed me, and they wrapped a blanket around the baby – or rather me. (I had not stopped crying by this point as I was confused - and not to mention, terrified - what did this even mean?)

I was placed into someone’s arms and after a few minutes, open my eyes to try to look at them (which was futile because they were blurry – my eyes were very undeveloped).  
The person murmured something to someone else, and soon I was put into the arms of another, who didn’t seem to know how to hold me properly compared to the first person – By the time I was handed back, I had experienced the first ache of my new life.

And anyway, that is the story of how I died, and Auriga was born.

I have to say, I feel like I should be ashamed that I didn’t realise where I within the first 6 months of my life, but I am not.

It was all very confusing, and I was too excited at the fact that my parents were speaking English (with a received pronunciation) to properly address the oddities of their names. 

The idea of me being in a fictional world didn’t even occur to me, as surely that would never be me? I was the kid who was never recognised – never listened to.

So why would fate decide to allow me to indulge in one of my childhood fantasies? 

Instead I just assumed I was in a different historical era – Probably the Victorian era, and proceeded to ignore all the signs pointing to otherwise.

The Fancy Clothing? They’re just aristocrats.

The Eloquent Speeches? That’s just how Victorians speak.

The weird names? I mean, I’ve read Horrible Histories, so Auriga is coming off lucky compared to Fanny.

The really weird fairytales full of magic? I really shouldn’t have ignored this one to be honest, but at the time I just assumed that they were just really into the supernatural – like most Victorians, however they had the sense to read me a child-friendly version (Of a story that sounded suspiciously like the Fall of the House of Usher)  
It wasn’t until the 27th of September 1978, that I figured out where exactly I was. 

As I could sit up by myself, mother had let me play with my dolls – a gift from Aunt Bella, and had quickly gone to greet our guest – presumably her. I was strangely excited, as this is the first time I would meet Aunt Bella, and almost all of the toys I’d had were from her.  
I’d assumed that Aunt Bella was the older, more experienced Sister, who had a kind, motherly face. Or maybe, she was the younger sister, who would be way too excited to be an Aunt, perhaps wanting a family of her own?

What I did not expect was a nutcase to walk through the doors with her arms outstretched. 

“Riga!” She called out, “Come to Auntie!”

Okay, it’s rude of me to call her a nutcase. I just feel like, with her manic eyes, crazy hair and even more manic grin, that was the best way to describe her.

But still, she did get me those presents. And all of those stories my parents had been reading to me, so I smiled to her.

I don’t know if she was expecting me to crawl over to her, but we ended up just staring at each other for a few moments, her arms still outstretched and me still smiling.

I awkwardly chuckled, however it did sound like giggling.

And by the happy look on her face, I’m going to assume that she assumed it was the latter rather than the former. 

She then ran over and scooped me up in her arms, tickling me as I did so.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

Even as my mother called out ‘Lucius, Bellatrix’s here!’

In all fairness, it was probably the perfect way to figure out that I was in the ‘Wizarding World Of Harry Potter,’ as I couldn’t stop laughing from being ticked, meaning that I had no outward, ‘strange’ reaction to figuring this out.

That being said, I was in the hpverse, and had no idea what to think.

I feel like I handled this new piece of information far better than I expected to.

\---

My name was Auriga Cassiopeia Malfoy.

My Aunt was Bellatrix Lestrange – A wizard terrorist. 

My father was Lucius Malfoy – A fellow Wizard terrorist.

And my mother was Narcissa Malfoy – The woman who loves her son more than anything else in the world. But still another Wizard terrorist.

How does one even cope with that information?

It took all 18 years of my previous life’s experience for me to continue smiling and laughing just like before – I was happy that they didn’t know I could speak yet to be honest, as then I probably would have broke down then and there.  
(I had never been good at keeping my emotions out of my voice, and so it was pretty easy to tell how I was feeling just from the tone of my voice)

Bellatrix stayed for about an hour, before leaving on some ‘urgent business.’ I had a feeling I wouldn’t want to know what said urgent business was, and as neither of my parents questioned her, I am assuming that they didn’t want me to hear either.

Instead, my mother – Narcissa, picked me up and walked with her husband and Bellatrix to the door.  
“Goodbye Luci! Cissy!” She exclaims before looking at me, “And I’ll see you soon, little Riga!”

Well that didn’t sound good. I don’t know which was worse – the fact that I could now tell people I have heard Bellatrix Lestrange speak in a baby voice, or the fact that she was actually good with children.

I mean, who knew?

Anyway, she left after that.

And when I went to sleep that night, I made a promise to myself.  
That I would never break my morals.  
And then I went to sleep – Deciding to come up with my morals in the morning.


End file.
